A Chance to See Truth
by ellasdele
Summary: Prompt: If Harry hadn't met Ron first and Snape wasn't such a git. Harry finds that some people he meets are bullies, something he is all too familiar with. Why was he friends with these bullies in the first place?
1. Prompt

Hello everybody, here is a prompt my friend from school gave, after I expressed an interest in writing.

Prompt: If Harry hadn't met Ron first and Snape wasn't a Greasy Git of the Dungeons

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Important things:

No Golden Trio

Snape Harry Mentor

1st and 2nd year

Suggestions:

Weasley twins as friends

Ron constantly angry at them

Neville and Luna as friends

Not Allowed:

Evil Dumbledore

Evil Harry

So, since I'm such a nice person, here we are with the story.


	2. The Prologue

**AN: **Hello everybody, welcome to Mister Never-on-Time's grand opening of my new story, A Chance to See Truth. While I do plan on the infamous Gred and Forge being friends with one Mr. Harry Potter, I do not plan on Ron being a right prat all the time. That's Percy's job. Just thought I would clear that up. Not so sure on the Neville and Luna thing, but we can see how that develops. I just ask that you not flame. Constructive criticism, is wanted, flames however, are not. That's pretty much all I have to say, please give this story a shot, see a few more chapters as this is just me trying to set the feel for the story. Until next chapter, bye!

**OoOoO**

In his cupboard, there is little to no light. He owns very few things of his own, hand-me-downs that are 10 sizes too big and some broken crayons. Definitely not the life one would expect for the savior of the Wizarding World. People expect him to live in a mansion, never hungry or wanting. That sort of life, however, is reserved for those with mothers and fathers, ones to love them. He just has his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and if this is love, he doesn't want love anymore. Love like this hurts. The names you and the parents you never knew are called. Freak. Boy. Unwanted. Drunkards. Lay abouts. Not a fun existence. He has far too many chores, and far too little food. Sometimes he goes a week without eating, normally just a day or two. The chores he has are back-breaking for a malnourished 10 year old. He is always hard pressed to do them. He has to weed the garden, paint the fence, cook all the meals, and clean every single room in the house, daily. Some may call that cruel, others even sadistic, but no one has ever helped him. He toils all day, missing breakfast and lunch routinely, and if he fails to finish the chores, dinner as well. Yet no one seems to notice. Perhaps they don't care. This is the existence of the most famous child in the Wizarding World, Harry James Potter.

**OoOoO**

Harry Potter sat in his cupboard, with only the spiders to keep him company. He and the spiders always seemed to be on the same page, he helped them escape, and they helped him not go completely insane. It isn't the best existence but it was his.

He actually preferred his cupboard over anywhere else. In here, he felt safe, like no one could hurt him. Outside though, everyone could hurt him, he had no protection. Not even the spiders to help him. His Uncle Vernon thought it was funny that he always got beat up by Dudley, even at school. The teachers never seemed to do anything, nor did the students or even people walking by. He was completely alone outside his cupboard.

Today, he felt something akin to anticipation. Soon, he was pretty sure it was his birthday. He was turning eleven, and despite the fact he never got a party or presents, it was a pretty big thing, your birthday. So, as he was getting up to his Aunt's shrill voice yelling at him, he was excited. Today felt different, better. The first sign of this was at breakfast, where his chore list seemed smaller. The next sign came when the post came. He actually got a letter! Even if his Uncle took it, it was a letter for him.

Then though, things got kind of weird. His Aunt and Uncle moved him into Dudley's second bedroom! The thing was, he couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not. At first glance it seems pretty good, but then he really will be alone, without even the company of the spiders. Then, the next morning at breakfast, he got another letter, of the same variety, except this time, instead of being addressed to his cupboard, it was addressed to "The Smallest Bedroom" which seemed strange. How did they know the Dursley's moved him?

Yet again, the next morning, after waking up early in attempt to get his letter, he treaded on his Uncle's face, who was sleeping on the door mat. Then, after a lot of yelling, he was sent off to make tea. When he got back, however, in his Uncle's lap was the post, with no less than three letters of the same variety. All addressed to him. Then his Uncle tore them up! They weren't even his letters!

His Uncle started acting even stranger, however. He actually boarded up the post slot in an attempt to get the letters to stop coming, despite his Aunt's protests. Yet this still didn't work! The postman handed his Uncle an egg carton through the window. Of all the things, an egg carton! Inside this egg carton however, was 24 of the same letters addressed to him. These, again, were destroyed, this time by his Aunt. The next day, which was Sunday, his Uncle seemed unusually happy. This was caused by the fact that the post isn't delivered on Sunday's. Yet as his Uncle was boasting that fact, two letters shot out of the fireplace. Seriously, this was much too weird for him. As his Uncle slammed the door to the living room in an attempt to stop letters which, after the initial two, had started streaming out, he pondered who wanted to speak to him so badly.

His Uncle took them all to a hotel, where he got no less than 100 letters. Just when he started thinking it couldn't get any weirder, his Uncle left the hotel and put them out on a small rocky island, which housed a very Spartan hut. Nothing of comfort was inside of the hut, no television or the like, nothing. Well, that's where strange was all but thrown out the window. When he reached zero while counting down the seconds to his birthday, the door was thrown open, and in walked a giant of a man.

This man, after a fairly one sided argument with Harry's Uncle, went to bed, promising of things to come tomorrow. Well, things did come, very strange things. He was to be taken shopping. This of course got him very excited; he never got to go shopping. Well, on this shopping trip he learned many things, things pertaining to magic, because apparently, he was a wizard. It took him all night to process it, but now that he did, it seemed strange. Surely him, the plain, boring, unloved boy originating from under the stairs, couldn't have something as amazing and wonderful as magic! Yet here he was, after a very, very strange shopping trip, during which he got his first birthday present, seeing so much proof. His own wand, which shot out sparks at the shop as he swung it. An owl, which despite seeming plain was actually one of the most intelligent animals he had ever seen. All of these books, books that were his, about magic! Yes, the evidence was overwhelming. He was even told he got to go to school September 1st.

He can't wait, yet he is worried that he won't be accepted by the people. Despite the very warm greeting he got today, he wonders if perhaps the children won't be as happy to see him. Despite these worries, he feels elation, or maybe just confusion. His parents weren't lazy drunkards or lay abouts; they were wizards, rich wizards from the look of it. Like really rich wizards. They left him a literal pile of gold. Luckily, his Aunt and Uncle don't know, or they would take it for sure. Also, his parents must really have loved him, to leave him with that much money. His entire life seems like it is a lie, and he doesn't know what to do. Hopefully he gets it figured out by September.

**AN:** Well, there was the prologue to my story, please rate and review, tell me what I did wrong, if you liked it or not everything you think I should know and then some! I don't have a beta so I expect there to be mistakes, I tried reading it over, but I'm not infallible after all, so tell me about them and I will try to fix it. Does this seem rushed, does it seem to be going nowhere fast, I'm not really sure what kind of pace you want it set at. And yes, I know that if it goes at this pace I'll be writing 1,500 words for every 2 or 3 days, which is much too slow. Thanks again for giving me your time, have good day!


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